


You do? You do!

by Lurlur



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ace Aziraphale - Freeform, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crowley's stars, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Crowley, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Post-Canon, Self-Hatred, ace crowley, ace ineffable husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-06-23 16:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19705531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurlur/pseuds/Lurlur
Summary: After Armageddon, Crowley has too much time on his hands and all he can think about is the way Aziraphale said "I don't even like you".





	1. Chapter 1

“I don’t even like you!” 

Crowley snapped awake, Aziraphale’s voice still ringing in his ears. As he sat up and threw back his bedsheets, Crowley felt a mild prickling as the night air met the beads of sweat that coated his body. With a noise that could have been a growl or a moan, the demon slipped out of his bed and stalked to the kitchen. 

The light from a full moon mixed with the obnoxious yellow glow of the street lights to cast sickly silhouettes across his naked form. Crowley paced the kitchen, uncertain why he had even entered. He wanted. He was filled with such wanting as he had never felt before. But the want had no name, no form, no taste. He pulled a glass from a cupboard and filled it with ice-cold water from the tap. He drained it in a single swallow only to fill it again, and again, finally abandoning the glass and sticking his head under the faucet. His wanting couldn’t be quenched, no matter how fast he drank. Another growl, this time from somewhere deeper than the throat, filled the kitchen. 

“Damn it, Crowley. You’re better than this.” He said, as if to convince himself. 

Like the dramatic little shit that he is, Crowley flopped forwards on to the counter. Doing an excellent impression of the most graceful sack of potatoes to ever exist alerted the forlorn fiend to the marvellous coolness of his granite counter tops. With a wriggle and a slither, he pulled his whole body on to the stone surface. The chill seeped into him, cooling the growling anger that had been brewing. 

He determined not to be upset by the words of a stressed, scared angel and promptly fell asleep, one foot dangling carelessly into the sink.


	2. Chapter 2

“I don’t even like you!”

In his sleep, Aziraphale frowned gently. His soft mouth turned down in an expression of worry as his hand reached out. Blindly groping the expanse of bed and sinfully soft duvet, Aziraphale began to fret like a toddler who has dropped their teddy bear.

“I do.” He mumbled just before rolling over and losing the dream. “I do.”


	3. Chapter 3

Despite his best efforts, Crowley was still feeling antsy. The part of him that was good at suppressing and ignoring feelings had gone on holiday. Armageddon had been almost two weeks ago, the world was back to normal and very few people were any the wiser. The Bentley was her usual beautiful self but there was no joy in driving now. Being a minor inconvenience on a cosmic scale held no appeal. Temptations were dull, and besides Hell wasn’t going to be checking up for a long time. He could do whatever he wanted. 

Anything he wanted.

If only he knew what he wanted.

If only he would admit to himself what it was that he wanted.

He was watering his plants when the phone rang. Pausing only to give the plants a very pointed look to hammer home the lesson he’d been teaching them, Crowley answered the phone.

“Yes?”

“Oh hello Crowley.” Aziraphale’s bright tones filled his head.

“Angel.” His voice softened as he fought to keep the smile off his face. “What can I do for you?” 

“Well, you see, I was just thinking about Adam Young. You remember, the Antichrist...”

As if I’d forgotten, Crowley thought.

Aziraphale continued. “Perhaps it would make sense to keep an eye on him, as it were. Uh, to make sure he’s getting on all right, and so forth.”

“Makes sense.” Crowley winced at the edge in his own voice.

“Maybe, um, we could meet and I’ll show you what I’ve put together so far?”

“I’ll come right over.”

“Oh! Yes, jolly good. I’ll see you soon.” 

Crowley hung up without saying goodbye, a habit he knew humans found infuriating. He wondered how angels felt about it. Shooting one last warning glance at the houseplants, Crowley picked up his keys and left the flat.


	4. Chapter 4

Crowley entered the bookshop in the same way he entered every space. That is to say, hips first. He found Aziraphale in the back room, looking a lot brighter than Crowley felt. He had a binder full of neat papers on the table and he kept drumming his neatly manicured fingers on it. The excitement and anticipation rolling off the angel were enough to catch Crowley off guard; like a drink that hides its potency behind sweet fruit flavours. With a smoothness too practised to be casual, Crowley draped himself over his usual armchair and tried to look nonchalant. 

Aziraphale poured wine into the empty glass that habitually sat within reach of Crowley’s armchair and waited for Crowley to take a sip before launching into his obviously rehearsed speech.

“Crowley, it occurs to me that young Adam is now alone in a world that is largely unprepared for a teenage Antichrist. It must be confusing enough for him to have found out about his origins and the reality of all creation, but I have also read about this process called puberty that he is approaching. He will go through a number of changes an-”

“I know what puberty is, angel.” Crowley interrupted. “Besides, we don’t know how much, if any, Antichrist is left in him.”

“Precisely! We don’t know! Perhaps he is an ordinary boy who had an extraordinary afternoon. Perhaps he retained some power. How would you prefer to find out? Minding your own business until the seas are boiling again?”

“What are you getting at?” The glint in Aziraphale’s eyes was almost manic and Crowley wasn’t sure that he liked it.

“We said we’d be like godfathers to the Antichrist. I’m merely suggesting that we aren’t too late to focus on the right boy.”

Crowley pushed his glasses back up his nose to make sure his expression was hidden. A small spark of hope had just ignited in his chest and he didn’t want to have to smother it just yet.

Aziraphale barrelled on, throwing open the binder to reveal pages of estate agent listings.

“I’ve collected information on all the suitable housing in Tadfield. I know that we both have commitments here in London, but Adam will be in school for most of the week anyway. So we’d only need to be there on the weekends and school holidays.” He flipped through a few of the pages to show Crowley a variety of picturesque cottages, each annotated in Aziraphale’s fussy script. 

Without realising it, Crowley had swivelled in his chair and was leaning forward intently, all pretence of disinterest abandoned.

“I’ve also taken the liberty of researching a bit of the local area. Amenities, nightlife, restaurants, those kinds of creature comforts.”

Crowley felt a tingle run down his spine. The way Aziraphale said “creature comforts” made it sound so, so sinful. And tempting.

The angel pushed the binder across the table so Crowley could see it more clearly. 

“What do you think?” Aziraphale’s tone was reminiscent of an excited puppy who couldn’t possibly imagine a scenario where the desired ear scritches would be withheld.

Crowley swallowed at a lump in his throat. Now that he could read the handwritten notes on the pages, he saw that they were all about features that he would enjoy. One cute little thatched cottage had the note ‘south facing rock garden – good for basking?’ Another said ‘Greenhouse for more plants.’ An old groundskeepers cottage was noted for its large garage and driveway which were ‘suitable for the Bentley.’ He flipped a few pages to try and avoid the upwelling of emotion that threatened him. An unremarkable Georgian manor house, with unkempt grounds and an artificially blue sky, caught Crowley’s eye as a safe option. It seemed much more of an Aziraphale choice than anything that he could have picked out with Crowley in mind, a fact reinforced by the lack of margin notes.

A muted, yet undeniably delighted, gasp from the angel appeared to confirm this. Aziraphale was trying to sell Crowley on this scheme, after all. It would make sense for him to highlight any obvious perks and try to increase Crowley’s enthusiasm. The torrent of emotion began to subside, this was about the boy, not them. He scanned the page, barely taking in the number of bedrooms, bathrooms and such. 

His eyes moved faster than his brain and he needed to backtrack. There were no notes on this page, no fussy little scrawls. There was just one sentence of text underlined; the house boasts an original, operational observatory dome on the roof.

“You could watch your stars, Crowley.”


	5. Chapter 5

Aziraphale had not been blind to Crowley’s reactions, he saw that the demon wanted to hide them and thought it more polite to pretend he hadn’t noticed the emotional shifts. Still, he watched and savoured every second of his beloveds realisations. He watched Crowley pull down his sunglasses, revealing watery and unfocused eyes. He watched as Crowley traced a finger along the page, tenderly caressing the underlined sentence. 

The effect on the demon was far more intense than Aziraphale could have anticipated. He had expected Crowley to be pleased, happy that his needs and desires were such a big consideration, but this was something else. Had Crowley been shown so little kindness that this was overwhelming for him? Aziraphale winced internally at the memory of every cross word and harsh retort he’d ever fired at his love. 

Crowley raised his gaze to meet Aziraphale’s, cutting short the mental chastisement. 

“Why?”

That single, choked syllable crushed Aziraphale’s heart. He wanted to take Crowley’s hand, to hold him tightly to his chest and tell him that nothing would ever make him doubt his worth again. But he felt sure that such an action would send the demon running for the hills. He had seen Crowley shy away from physical intimacy so many times and had long ago come to terms with loving him from a reserved distance. They knew that they loved each other and that was enough.

“Because I want you to be happy, Crowley.”

There was a flash of pure love on Crowley’s face for the fleetest of moments. It was the most beautiful thing that Aziraphale had ever seen. Then the mask was back in place and Crowley slipped back into his painfully cool persona.

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly. The pair drank, laughed, sang, and reminisced. Crowley left, binder in hand, at that sweet spot of the night where you’re not sure if it’s very late or really early. Promises were made that they would view all the properties the coming week and Aziraphale managed to just hold back from wrapping Crowley in a big hug as he left.

A warm and fuzzy feeling carried the angel up his stairs and into the comfortable living quarters he’d cobbled together. Still buzzing slightly from the wine, Aziraphale snuggled himself into his bed and began to drift to sleep when a thought struck him hard enough to immediately sober him up.

“Shit.” He said out loud. “I don’t think Crowley knows that I love him.”


	6. Chapter 6

A cloud of optimism and glee enveloped Crowley on the drive home, it followed him into his flat and settled around his heart as he danced lightly across his living room. Crowley gently placed the binder on his desk, stroking the cover as one might caress a lovers cheek. First thing in the morning, he would call the estate agent and make appointments to view all the houses. It would be the first full day spent with Aziraphale since the almost-apocalypse. He spun a little pirouette and blew a kiss at his houseplants. This upset the plants so much that they all strained to be the greenest green possible, one even spontaneously sprouted, budded and blossomed a giant flower. 

Crowley barely noticed as he floated about the place, tipsily getting himself ready for bed. Aziraphale wanted to share a house with him! Wanted him to be happy in the shared house! Cared and understood about things he would like! Most of all, Aziraphale knew how special the stars were to him. It felt like Crowley’s deepest and most secret hopes were coming true.

For millennia, Crowley had loved Aziraphale from a distance. He was fascinated by every aspect of the angel, from how he thought about the world and humanity to the delicate way he would dab at his lips with a napkin after every meal. From those first days in Eden, the snakey one had recognised something in Aziraphale that appealed to him. He was so moral and good, but in ways that heaven didn’t always appreciate. It echoed the times that hell hadn’t appreciated much of Crowley’s best work. 

The demon flopped onto his bed, thinking of cosy winter nights in a cottage in Tadfield with only Aziraphale for company. It sounded like bliss. 

Crowley was well practised at telling himself that he didn’t need Aziraphale to love him. Angels are beings of love and, as such, loved all of God’s creation. Crowley decided that he was part of that and so he told himself that it was enough. He could show his love for Aziraphale in a million different ways without saying it. Finding a rare first edition for him, proposing The Arrangement, saving him from Nazis, performing a miracle in Knock, it all meant the same thing. Acts of service were how Crowley said: “Aziraphale, I love you.”

A thought struck him harder than he would have liked. What if he misunderstood the angel’s intention? What if Aziraphale had only pointed out houses that Crowley would like because he intended for Crowley to be in Tadfield alone? What if this was Aziraphale finding a way to send Crowley away?

The fallen one laughed bitterly to himself as he rolled onto his back. Serpentine eyes stared at the ceiling as he turned the thought over in his head. Now that heaven and hell had agreed to leave them alone for a while, The Arrangement wasn’t needed. Neither of them would be getting assignments for a long time. Why would Aziraphale want to spend time with a demon if he didn’t have to? After all, hadn’t he said it himself? Aziraphale doesn’t even like Crowley.

Of course, this made much more sense. Crowley was a nasty, evil demon. A foul fiend. Undesirable in every way. Aziraphale was a being of pure love and, to Crowley’s mind, the best of them all. He loved more fiercely than heaven had expected. But maybe demons were beneath that love. Crowley flung his arm over his eyes and groaned. 

He was stupid. Stupid and blind. He was a fool to think that Aziraphale would actually want to spend time with someone as tainted as Crowley. He blinked away tears and cursed his all-too-human emotions. If Aziraphale wanted him out of the way, Crowley would oblige him. One more act of service, one more “I love you”, even if it tore his heart in two to do it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends, I just want to say thank you for all the kind comments! They are really helping me with keeping on track with this fic. I'm glad that so many of you are enjoying it.

Although Crowley was late more often than not, Aziraphale elected to wait outside the shop for him. He stood on the steps of his shop, hands lightly clasped in front of him, and watched the world go by as he waited for his demonic beau. He smiled beatifically at all passers-by, exuding calm and love. It was a good day, the sun warmed his face and a breeze kept the air light, it was a good day to confess his love to Crowley and rid the poor dear of his doubts.

Aziraphale had almost called Crowley as soon as he’d realised the problem. He’d even got as far as picking up the handset before stopping to think. Crowley deserved a better declaration of love than a hurried phone call at 2 AM. The angel had put the handset back in the cradle and sat back to think. By his reckoning, Crowley had been in love for a lot longer than Aziraphale had. Although that thought caused him pain, there was no avoiding it. Aziraphale had fought his feelings for too long, even without knowing it. That devotion, those centuries of silent, unrequited suffering, it all added up to Crowley deserving a thoughtful, meaningful moment. Aziraphale resolved to give it to him and so he had formed a plan. It wouldn’t be a grand or ostentatious event, love was grand enough without frills, but Aziraphale was sure that it would soothe the wounds that he had inflicted on Crowley’s heart for so long. That evening, after they had viewed all the houses and perhaps even picked one, Aziraphale would ask Crowley to drive a certain route so they would find themselves at the top of a hill that overlooks Tadfield. The angel would ask to stop so they can enjoy the view and get out of the car to sit on the grass. When the light had faded enough to let the brightest stars shine, he would tell Crowley how he felt and apologise for not making it more obvious sooner.

Aziraphale was just congratulating himself on a perfect plan when the Bentley screamed up to the curb. Crowley leaned out of his window to call out.

“Alright, angel? Get in.”

Aziraphale smiled warmly, feeling love wash over him as he climbed into the car. 

“Good morning, Crowley.”

The grunted response made Aziraphale look more closely at the demon behind the wheel. Although his eyes were covered with his customary sunglasses, there was no mistaking the lines in his forehead and the tightness around his mouth. Crowley was in a foul mood, something had deeply upset him. Aziraphale was again amazed at how much love the demon could exude whilst he was feeling so down. He knew that Crowley wouldn’t talk about it with him until he was ready so he busied himself with hunting through the glove compartment for a CD to listen to on the drive. He settled on a contemporary choral compilation and slipped it into the player. The opening chords of Bicycle Race filled the car, much to his chagrin.


	8. Chapter 8

Crowley was sulking and he hated himself for it. He had Aziraphale all to himself for a full day, with barely any distractions, and he just couldn’t keep himself from ruining it. He’d barely looked at the first house they’d visited. Aziraphale had asked Crowley if he couldn’t just see himself in the greenhouse, tending to his plants, and Crowley felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He walked away from the angel, tears welling up behind his sunglasses. It was practically an admission that Aziraphale wanted Crowley to be in Tadfield all of the time, away from him. 

He couldn’t bring himself to go into the second house at all. It didn’t matter what it looked like, what features it had, Crowley was going to be miserable here. He walked around the back of the building whilst the estate agent chattered to Aziraphale about original features and the “cosy” kitchen. 

This was the house with the rock garden, he realised quickly. The sun was shining brightly on the stonework, highlighting the selection of small heathers and succulents that peppered the structure. Crowley wasn’t averse to sulking in comfort, and the sun-warmed rock did look especially inviting, there was no harm in making the best of a bad situation. He wriggled his slim figure between the plants and reclined amongst the stones, letting the warmth seep into his bones. 

“Ah! I hoped you would like basking out here, Crowley!” Aziraphale clasped his hands together delightedly. “Is it comfortable? Do you like it?”

Crowley sat up with a start, unaware of having fallen asleep. His sunglasses slipped off his face, revealing that his eyes had turned fully reptilian during his nap. He registered that the estate agent was stood beside his angel and panicked, fumbling and fussing with the glasses in his haste to get them back on. Aziraphale stepped forward and took them from him, calmly placing them back over Crowley’s eyes.

“There we go, dear.”

His face was agonisingly close to Crowley as he straightened the glasses, the demon took a deep breath to fill his lungs with the scent of Aziraphale. The angel ran a well-manicured hand through Crowley’s hair to undo the rumpling effect of sleep. Crowley pushed his head into the contact, like a cat begging for more affection, before catching himself and pulling back. 

“Yes, all right, all right. Get off.” He shooed Aziraphale away, rather more sharply than he meant to.

The estate agent had tactfully looked away from the exchange but cleared her throat now to remind her unusual clients of her presence. It was time to go on to the next house. Aziraphale looked a little like he’d been stung and took a couple of steps back from Crowley before turning and falling into step with the estate agent. Dragging his feet, Crowley followed along behind them. 

Stupid, pathetic demon. Idiotic and damned. Unlovable. Unwanted. Disgusting. Even God Herself couldn’t love him. Of course, he’d fallen for the only being who had ever been nice to him. Pitiable worm, pining for something he wasn’t allowed to even want. 

Crowley tortured himself as they walked, his fingers tracing the path that Aziraphale’s had taken. Again and again, combing through his hair, trying to hold on to that brief second of contact. Tears threatened the corners of his eyes but he pushed them away. Aziraphale wouldn’t want to see him cry and he really didn’t feel like explaining the cause.


	9. Chapter 9

The nice estate agent lady was talking, saying something about the current owners of the next house. Aziraphale was trying to listen enough to respond at the appropriate moments but he was focusing most of his attention on the sullen demon walking twenty paces behind them. He found himself giving in to an old nervous habit and picking at his cuticles. Feeling guilty, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. 

The Georgian manor house appeared ahead of them, peeking out around a stand of silver birch. Aziraphale caught his breath at the sight of it. It was very much to his tastes, with tall windows, elegant stonework features, and just a couple of columns in a classical style. It definitely needed a bit of attention and love to get it back to its former glory, but Aziraphale could see the potential in the place and his face was positively radiant as he pictured it. 

“My word.” He breathed.

The estate agent struck like a shark sensing a whiff of blood. 

“The current owners have just reduced the price and we’re seeing a real surge in interest. I showed the property to a family yesterday and fully expect them to make an offer before the end of the day.” She eyed Aziraphale’s slack jaw and starry-eyed expression. “I can’t stress enough how important it is to move quickly with this property.”

Aziraphale waved her off absently. “The observatory. We must see the observatory.”  
She motioned for the pair to follow her and lead them briskly into the house and up two flights of stairs. They stopped at a solid wooden door which she unlocked with a heavy, iron key. 

“It’s not the most spacious room, so I’ll stay here. Call down if you need any assistance.” With that, she pushed open the door to reveal a gently spiralling staircase.

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s wrist and pulled him up the stairs, convinced that this would be the thing to lift his friend’s sour mood. At the top of the stairs, Crowley snatched his arm back and made a show of straightening his sleeve. They were stood in a small, domed room. A modern telescope stood on a tripod in the centre of the space with a small stool beside the eyepiece. The floor was decorated with an intricate compass rose design that coordinated with the large handwheels for moving and opening the roof. The angel did a quick lap of the room, taking in the details.

“Oh, this is marvellous. Just wonderful. Don’t you think, Crowley?” Aziraphale turned to look at the demon, his eyes were bright and hopeful. His face crumpled into concern at the sight of Crowley openly crying.

The angel closed the small distance between them and reached out to touch Crowley’s shoulder.

“Whatever is the matter, my dear?”

Crowley shrugged his hand off and tried to turn away, angrily wiping tears from his face.

“’S’nothin’.”

“It is most definitely not nothing. I’ve tried to give you space and patience today, but whatever is bothering you is obviously very serious.” Aziraphale couldn’t keep the pleading tone out of his voice.

“It’s alright pretending like you care now!”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to retort but Crowley barrelled on.

“If you care so much about my feeeeelings, why are you so set on sending me away? I get why you wouldn’t want me around, I’m a demon and you’re an angel. There’s no need for the arrangement any more. Of course you don’t want me hanging around now, but this fake concern is really too much, even for you, angel.”

He sounded so angry, so wounded, so vicious, practically spitting his words. Aziraphale was speechless for a second, completely unprepared for the direction the demon had taken. A second was all he needed to put the pieces together. He saw through the facade of vitriol, right through to the hurt and rejected soul it was protecting. He saw the tears still wetting Crowley’s cheeks and the barely repressed longing that had sent them forth.

The silence lasted just a second too long.

“You said it yourself. You don’t even like me.” Crowley’s voice was all pain.

“Oh Crowley.” Aziraphale finally found his tongue. “Crowley, I’m so sorry. I thought you knew, I honestly thought you knew. I only recently realised that you needed to hear it and that is all my fault.” 

He reached out and took Crowley’s hands in his own, gently rubbing his thumbs over the demon’s knuckles. He let go with one hand just to remove his beloved’s perpetual sunglasses, removing the barrier between them.

“Crowley, I love you. I was never trying to send you away. I want us to live here together. I love you.”

“You do?”

“I do.”


	10. Chapter 10

Every step had been deepening Crowley’s misery until he felt that he was practically dragging himself up the curving staircase. Yes, the observatory was very pretty. Yes, Aziraphale’s face had been painfully radiant ever since he’d set eyes on this place. But no, Crowley couldn’t convince himself that he would be happy anywhere without the angel. There wasn’t a sun-warmed rock or antique star-gazing room in the world that could compare to the way he felt when Aziraphale smiled at him. 

He really hadn’t meant to start crying. He truly hadn’t meant for Aziraphale to notice. But he did, and then he’d had the audacity to act concerned, to act as if he was ignorant of what he was doing to Crowley’s heart. Naturally, Crowley reacted with anger. Any snake backed into a corner will lash out at the hand that approaches it. He had been keeping all these fears and thoughts inside, locked away from his angel, that hearing them out loud felt like an out of body experience. He heard his own voice, felt his own throat move, but it didn’t feel like he was in control of his body.

A moment of stunned silence between the two of them and the most feared admission slipped from Crowley’s loosened lips. 

“You said it yourself. You don’t even like me.”

His voice was choked and tight. Breathing was torture. Crowley cursed his own words, wishing bitterly that he could take them back. He was being weak, vulnerable, stupid. This fall from grace would hurt no less than the last and yet, here he was dancing on the edge of the precipice and begging to be pushed. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away from the angel. 

When Aziraphale spoke his voice was so soft, so conciliatory. It pained Crowley to hear him sounding this sympathetic, it made him feel like he was being pitied. He wanted to move away, to leave the room, but suddenly Aziraphale had hold of his hands. Words were dropping into his understanding like sand drifting through honey, but nothing was making sense. His glasses were gone and now he had no choice but to look into those beautiful eyes. No matter how desperately he wanted to look away, Aziraphale had him captive.

“...I love you.”

His thoughts were a mess. He’d barely heard a word that Aziraphale had said but those last three words had forced their way into his consciousness like a bullet. Half of his brain was screaming at him to say something cool but the other half was just screaming.

“You do?” Oh, he sounded so needy, unsure of his worth. For surely there was no way that this being of pure divinity could love him.  
“I do.” Aziraphale maintained the intense eye contact as if he was willing Crowley to believe him.

His legs buckled and folded like the limbs of a gangly spider, dropping him on to the stool. He pulled Aziraphale towards him and wrapped his arms around the angel’s waist, burying his face in the worn fabric of Aziraphale’s waistcoat. Mere moments later, he felt gentle caressing touches tentatively begin to explore his hair and neck. 

Crowley just needed to regain his composure. That’s all. A minute at most and he’d be right as rain again. Deep breaths, so human but it had worked in the past. A wet splat landed in his hair at the same moment that Aziraphale hugged Crowley’s head into his stomach. The two divine beings held each other and cried out millennia of hurt and missed opportunities and longing. 

It felt like an eternity and also like the tiniest fraction of what they each needed, but finally, Aziraphale loosened his hold and lowered himself to his knees so that he was between Crowley’s knees and the pair were eye level. Crowley offered him a weak smile, neither of them completely releasing the other from the embrace.

“Crowley, I’m so sorry. I knew that you loved me and because you’d never said it, I thought that you didn’t need to hear it. I’ve been impossibly stupid. Please, my love, forgive me?”

“Oh, angel. Aziraphale. I didn’t think this was even possible. I didn’t want to risk our friendship or scare you off by telling you what I felt. How can I forgive you for my own mistake? I love you, Aziraphale.”

Crowley was rewarded with a beautiful angelic smile and his heart sang in praise of it. Basking in its warmth was more fulfilling than any heat lamp or sun-warmed rock. Just when he thought that his heart couldn’t take any more, Aziraphale leaned in and placed a single, soft kiss on his lips.

“Now we have to buy this house.” The angel said. “It’s the site of our first vocal declaration of love and our first kiss.”

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s face and pulled him back for their second kiss, leaving them both with the taste of salt on their tongues from the mingling of their tears.

“Gimme my glasses back so we can go make that estate agent happy without giving her a heart attack.” Crowley stood as he spoke, pulling Aziraphale up with him.

They left the observatory hand-in-hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.


	11. Epilogue

It’s Wednesday evening and neither of them have been to London in a number of weeks. Crowley is in the observatory, making minute adjustments to the position of the telescope. One of the first things he’d done upon moving in to the house was fit the observatory out with equipment that he felt suited it much better. The space is now dominated by an extremely expensive and complicated telescope.

“Hurry up, Aziraphale! It’s going to start soon!” He calls down the stairs to his most beloved.

“Coming!” Comes the bright response.

Aziraphale arrives seconds later, a blanket in his hand for the night chill. For a moment, the couple just smile at each other, the kind of gentle, joyful smiles that come from being hopelessly, endlessly in love. They exchange a kiss and Crowley grabs hold of Aziraphale’s hand in order to pull him over to the telescope eyepiece. The angel bends his head to peer through the viewer and gasps in delight.

“Crowley, it’s so clear!”

They spend several hours watching the moons of Jupiter traverse its surface, taking turns at the telescope. They exchange delighted comments and observations, each just as enchanted by their extra-terrestrial show as by the enthusiasm and enjoyment of their lover. Finally, Crowley pulls Aziraphale back from the telescope and holds him close. He plants a kiss on the angels lips, using the distraction to perform a quick miracle. Aziraphale opens his eyes to find that the whole observatory has disappeared, leaving them on the rooftop of the house. The sky is both darker and brighter than Aziraphale has ever seen it before, every star is a pinprick of perfect light, galaxies and nebulae appear larger and more vibrant.

Aziraphale clings to Crowley as he takes in the view.

“Oh Crowley! It’s so beautiful!”

Crowley smiles and helps the angel to sit down before taking his place next to him.

“This is every star, every nebula, and every heavenly body that I helped to create.” He pauses to enjoy the squeak that the angel just emitted. “I would give them all up for you, you know?”

Crowley leans into Aziraphale’s shoulder in the way that he had wanted to all those years ago in Eden.

“I love you.” Says the angel.

“You do.” Replies the demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for joining me on this first Good Omens fic. I can't imagine that it will be my last.
> 
> All of your comments have meant so much to me as I've been publishing the chapters. I wish I had the spoons to respond to you all and tell you how much I've loved reading them. 
> 
> A final special thanks to Owl for the fan art. It takes my breath away every time I see it and I totally did let it change my planned epilogue. Please enjoy the full version here https://i.imgur.com/3vFGnBE.mp4 it's so beautiful. You can see more of their work at wanderingowlart.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Good Omens fic. Please be gentle.


End file.
